Learn
by xxAREESHAxx
Summary: Sadiq finds himself reluctantly under Ivan for the time being but fights back regardless of the consequences. Russia/Turkey. Written as a birthday present for someone.


**Alright, so this is my first Hetalia fanfiction. I wrote it as a birthday present for a friend who adores the pair and then urged me to upload it somewhere, so here it is! Excuse any errors, I was too lazy to reread and English is not my first language. I am also quite shy and hesitant to put this up for public, but oh well.**

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Their fingers entangled tightly, like clams fixated, the tall blonde lead them through a series of alleys and narrow passageways. Why was he following, when he had not the slightest of ideas as to where he was being lead, if not taken? It was awfully quiet for that time, that much he knew; evening was when the crowds prepared to head home and though not as busy as the day time, the sounds were considerable.  
But it seemed as if they had long escaped the usual hustle bustle of the city. To the common eye, the two of them would seem like a foreigner accompanied by a shorter local with a strange appearance. Eccentric as it might sound to some, he had taken quite a liking for his mask and preferred to be seen with it on most of the times: mainly in public, to be specific. However, although from afar it would seem as though there were two dark holes in the place of his mask like they always looked like, so did they now, what the common eye failed to notice was that there was a dark cloth behind the mask; the reason why he had no idea where they were going. He did, although, have something to be thankful for, for the quiet and unliveliness of the area. Scarecely populated meant less people bumping into him as they walked: a lesser chance for his blindfold to be noticed.  
And at last, the inn arrived, the inn where they were to stay the night before they final decision was to be made regarding him. Minutes after listening to a few words being exchanged in a tongue that was foreign to his ears, he found himself with the Russian in the lodge. Alone finally, he was relieved to have gotten rid of the cloth that obscured his vision, and Sadiq took in the sight that awaited him. Everything seemed wooden, it was a simple room with simple furnishings and a single mattress, much to his dislike. Even worse, seated over it with his belongings in a small pile next to, was Ivan holding his signature smile, and palm on his cheek.  
It infuriated him. Seeing the other like that, that is.  
What does he consider himself? Thinking he can control anyone and do as he pleases? The thought often crossed his mind when Sadiq saw the blonde; always appearing calm yet holding inside such indignation, for lack of a better word.  
"A peasant's habitat, that's what you're giving me." Sadiq uttered those words loud, his disdain clear in his tone. As he had been expecting, Ivan's smile only broadened at his dislike.  
"Funny thing for someone like you to say. Perhaps I should try harder to muddy that pride of yours?" A questioning statement described better the Russian's reply to him. True, Sadiq had enjoyed quite some luxuries, but like this, here, he had to follow his ways, a way of nature where dominance changes it's residence among different hands.  
Standing firm now, Ivan looked at him deep in the eye; it was a privilege Sadiq had reluctantly given him, seeing him unmasked. It was the only way the blindfold cloth could be removed, though, so he settled on not to let that matter tug him too much.  
"You should be grateful for recieving the mercy you don't deserve."  
"Pfft, some mercy ya call it! I'd rather say ya got lucky, for some time. Don't forget," He pointed at him with his accusing finger, an action popularly used as a threat in the Turks. "It's not gonna remain that way forever, I'll-"  
Before his sentence could be completed, his wrist was grabbed firmly by a pale hand, and Sadiq narrowed his eyes at it, then at the owner of them. Greeting him with a grin that happened to hide partially the truth that he was to say, Ivan blinked, tilting his head slightly to the side.  
"Hmm? You will what, my comrade?"  
"Don't call me that."  
"Care to answer the question, mate?"  
"Don't call me that, bastard!" He barked, making an attempt to yank his hand free but at that attempt in vain, Ivan's smile deepened as he shook his head.  
"It's never too late to learn some manners and respect for your superior, don't you think, Sadik...?"

A sharp stab of pain in the back of his head silenced any futile attempt the Turk made to give the Russian a reply composed of his thoughts. He had been pushed and slammed hard against the wall. Falling on the floor from the impact on his shoulder, Sadiq felt a crushing foot on the side of his face, the pressure mainly on his head, as he lay. For a split second, he felt his sight blur as the weight of the Russian was exerted on him, and he let out grunts of his discomfort. He did manage to move his free arm around and elbowed the other on the legs to free himself of the difficult position he was in. Another pang of pain struck him, his time in the shoulder, as if something was being buried inside him and he hissed. He couldn't believe it, Ivan had the pipe with him even here! He made a mental note to himself to never let the blonde get away with this, he would't allow, he just wouldn't.  
And finally he let go, and the Turk let out a heavy breath, now holding and rubbing his shoulder. His attention was diverted yet again as he was yanked by the hair and made to stand, his foot slipped as a result of the sudden jerk but he managed. Upon having that done, Ivan held his chin between his two fingers, forcing him to look directly into his piercing violet eyes. Absently tracing the Turk's stubbled chin, his thumb found their way up his jawline, reaching down to his bottom lip. On the contrary, his other hand travelled from his waist to the back of his neck. The situation was albeit a bit too weird for Sadiq, who only stared at the taller man with disbelief and disgust and smacked his hand away.  
Pouting, Ivan retrieved the hand that was exploring the Turk's face before so rudely being smacked away, but let the other stay in power firmly. He gave him a questioning look before taking hold of the Turk's wrists and pinning him agains the wall.  
"Tch, tch, don't fight now..." Sadiq's attempts to shake and free himself were in vain as the other was stronger than him in that. So, taking advantage, Ivan leaned in, letting his mouth meet the Turk's uncovered neck and dug his teeth in, slightly but made sure they would leave mark. His tongue flicked the tiny bite mark that he had left him, and so on continued to lick along his skin and stopped only upon reaching his cheek. Now, Sadiq had experience in battles and had endured pain and severities, but this was one ground he lacked knowledge in, which the Russian knew all too well. Pecking his cheek, the Russian pulled back only to be greeted by the indignation in the Turk's olive eyes, who glared at him like he was some kind of sick, filthy creature; or perhaps he did see him that way, but it did not matter much to him in any case.  
"Perhaps, this will teach you something, a lesson might just be what you need." Ivan commented flatly, reaching forward to touch his cheek, he leaned in and let their noses touch, but before he could lean in any further, Sadiq inched away, not wanting to be felt. This was degrading; this was very insulting for him, he was starting to have a different idea of what the taller male could possibly mean but if that was the case, he would not let that happen. Never. He had tried to free his arms before but in vain so this time he decided to make some use of his legs and twisted his foot. There was his chance, his moment of victory. Slipping out of his hold, Sadiq frantically searched for something, anything that he could use to attack him before the other but the moment of victory was short lived as only a few seconds later he met another stab of pain, this time a way between the back of his neck, a sensitive region where even a small injury could prove to be deadly and his eyes burned as waves of the impact spread through him and he fell to his knees. That was not it. He felt himself being punched in the jaw hard and later on the back of his head bang the wall hard, as a result of which he bit into his own tongue, a trickle flowing that contributed to the metallic, salty taste that began to build in his mouth. Blood, he had had this before, but never had he liked the taste of it, not even the slightest. A series of blows came his way in his sides, on his face, in his stomach, so swiftly that much to his own surprise, he was finding it hard to retaliate and he could only do so much as to cover himself with his arms, as if they could shield him but no, he ended up wincing as he felt himself give in to the suffering that looked as if it had been made to target him alone of all the other people in the world. Two trickles of blood oozed out of the side of his head, next to his eyes, stinging him but he had had worse.  
Upon noticing the thin stream, Ivan could only do as much as let out a throaty laugh as the Turk reached to touch his skin, shivering slightly as the tips of his fingers were dampened scarlet. Backing away now, the Russian scooped up one of the two bottles he had brought of his favourite drink. Observing the mess he had made of the other, Ivan gulped down three quarts of the vodka, his eyes hazy and clouded by an eerie emotion. Like a predator, a playful one, Ivan's eyes scanned the other, almost expecting him to make a move to entertain himself. When no response came, he commented flatly, "By now, you should pay me the regard I deserve from you."  
"I would rather esteem dogs."  
Hearing those words only brought a spark in the blonde haired male's eyes, mixed with a feeling of revenge, loathe, lust all merged into one. Without giving it a second thought, Ivan arched forward and crashed the bottle he had been holding previously, against him; the tiny shards of glass cutting through his skin and leaving countless red marks on his cheek and neck. Sadiq shut his eyes tight until the noise had gone and stared at the taller man with complete and utter shock in his eyes, his hand clutching at the burning sensation that itched him, thanks to some of the drink that still remained in the container before it crashed. Not giving him a second to spare, Ivan pushed the other forcefully on his knees with his own body over him. Displeased at the posture, Sadiq growled in annoyance but Ivan wasted no more time in tearing off the other's robes, little by little revealing as much as he wanted, having only his legs stay covered. Next came an elbow, followed by a series of moves as arms twisted, legs kicked, and groans filled the room.  
"You little- fuck!" He cursed upon feeling the other's mouth on his neck and his teeth digging his flesh. At first it felt like a paper cut but then it occured to him that his cut had been a little too deep. Nevertheless, Ivan let his mouth trail up to his chin. Sadiq cringed, turning his face away from the smell of the vodka that was so close to him, much to the Russian's disappointment and pressed his palms against his chest, trying to push him off.  
"I thought you would have learnt by now." A tiny frown appeared on Ivan's face and before anything else could be said, he caught hold of the longer mouth of the glass bottle that lay next to him and struck the other with it, going as far as scratching strange patterns and words in his own script whislt holding the other down by the shoulder with the other palm, enjoying as the Turk's eyes narrowed to slits as a result of the torment he was inflicting, and having the other dig his nails in the back of his neck only amused him more; the Turk was still going to fight back despite the fact that they were both aware of, that he was not the one in power now. Pulling him by the hair, not paying any attention to the trickle of blood that was starting to dry on his face, a punch landed on his face, followed by a kick in the ribs and sides, the winced and muffled sounds that were coming from the other male only amused and brought a smile on Ivan's face, his eyes glowering fierce.  
His head throbbing, Sadiq was only given as much as a minute to steady himself after the session he had just undergone. He felt dizzy and light-headed, a kind of airy feel taking over him. Having the other pulled on top of the mattress as he lay still distressed, Ivan seated himself on and stretched his arms and hummed a tune, waiting for the other to recover while he waited.  
It was always like that. Too many blows on the head and fatigue washed over Sadiq, as if his brain were the main weakness. He stared absently at the windowless walls of the room, a wave of nostalgia washing over him but he ignored it as his eyes caught the glance of Ivan's belongings on the bed. Beside the rubble and trash, Sadiq decided to label it that, was Ivan's coat, the pocket of which concealed one of his tiny pocket knives that the Turk considered to be the object that might just help him. With the Russian's back to him, Sadiq reached forward, slowly and carefully as ever, slid his hands in the coat lying on the bed and retrieved the little blade. Despite the blood before his eyes and his body aching like never before, the thirst for vengeance was still alive inside of him. And he yearned to quench it.  
"Good to see you up, I was starting to think you were a little too weak!" Ivan exclaimed, feeling as Sadiq got up, sitting now. With both the men having their backs to each other, the Turk contemplated as to how he was going to attack or better yet, get the oppurtunity to. He would let nobody, nobody beat him like that and get away with it, never! He needed to think of a way to attack back and he had to figure one fast. The tiny blade firm in his hold, Sadiq dared to open the thing up, but no sooner than the first, almost inaudible click was sounded, a pair of hands grabbed him under the arms, the thumbs exerted extraordinary pressure, which at first Sadiq could not understand but then the true horror of what the Russian might possibly have in mind dawned upon him. His grip on the knife firm, Sadiq turned his head slowly to come face to face with the blonde, only to be met by the ever smiling face.  
"Na, ah, ah..." Ivan blinked and shook his head. "I wouldn't if I were in your place." He said, his grip tightening. SAMozaschita Bez Orujiya. Now only reserved and used in Russian sports, the term was once used as an art of killing, a slow, painless, and horrifying method that to the common eye would seem as two people cuddling, but only the attacker aware of the happening. A quick-and-quiet sentry, it could be called. Prepared in difficult times, the skill was known to few of the time, and was to be kept known by few for such a clever method to kill by bare hands would be bound to cause mischief if the ordinary man got to know. In short, the method was kept secret and only very few were aware of the consequences; the two of themselves belonging to those who knew. Slowly, reluctantly, Sadiq watched as the pocket knife was taken out of his grasp and tossed to the floor.  
Powerless. Being in a situation that made him so was something the Turk was not very fond of. But he had tried, he had indeed tried and protested as the Russian got hold of his arms and used his scarf to bind his wrists behind his back together, making sure that he would not be using his hands any time soon. Having accomplished that, he smirked, pushing the Turk on his face and holding him like that from the back of his head as he slid off his trousers; and then let go, and watched as the Turk fidgeted at being exposed like that. His eyes glued on him, he saw as Sadiq turned to look at him from the corner of his eye, in which Ivan caught a slight glimpse of what he took to be fear.  
Suddenly being stripped like that, Sadiq struggled to hold himself from shivering as the normal aura in the room felt cool on his hot skin. He despised this. He was completely nude in front of another man, for God's sake! And with his hands tied behind his back, he could only wonder as to what would be coming his way next. The last sounds that fell on his ears were that of belt undoing and the rustling of clothes.

Forcibly spreading his legs, Ivan entered him in a harsh, abrasive thrust; and continued to sway that way without giving the man under him any time to adapt to the uncomfortable posture. Sadiq tried to move aside and relax his thighs to lessen the pain, because much to his own surprise it actually really hurt, but the force with which the Russian held him made it impossible to bulge. He admitted, the sudden intrusion had made gasps escape him; this was one kind of pain that the Turk had never experienced before and had no idea what to expect. The first entry had him squirming, he wanted to be free of the stickiness, the hotness, the intruder and all that had found its place between his legs but that was not happening and the Russian was not giving him time to adjust either. His eyes tightly shut, sweat slicking his forehead, the Turk could do but wait for it all to end, but with every thrust he could feel the other harden instead of wearying down; if he was ever to slow down and leave him, there were no signs he showed of it.  
"Ah, hah-!" Sadiq bit his lip, feeling himself get torn. There was, however, a different feeling that was welling up in his stomach. It was disgusting, and at the same time sweet. Conquering Greece had rewarded him with several manuscripts that he had read and helped preserved, but one such topic had left him flabbergasted up till now. Even in his wildest imaginations, Sadiq could never see suffering and pleasure going together. The idea of it was just too absurd for him, that is, until now. He hated the Russian; no, hate was an understatement. He loathed, he despised him so much, for everything he made him go through and the troubles that caused for him. But now, submiting to him inevitably and being rocked as he moved, a troublesome thought disturbed him. It was not pleasure, niether was it the pleasure from suffering, but a different emotion that he could not describe as he stared into the lust-veiled eyes of the Russian while he penetrated him. There was a lack of words when it came to describing it. The blonde smiled a lopsided, mischievous smile as a moan inevitable escaped Sadiq, without him even realizing it, and the Turk's glare only made Ivan more excited and he thrusted deeper as a result, earning more groans and whimpers from him, rocking forth even long after he came inside him, receiving more scornful looks from the Turk. It was kind of like a rhythm that had built up between them.  
With what seemed like a final thrust in him, the Russian leaned forward, still inside, with all his weight on the other man and passed his fingers through the Turk's hair.  
"You've been obedient." He chuckled, quirking a brow as Sadiq rolled his eyes. He grinned, pressing their bodies closer until their noses touched and made a move to lock lips with him. Sadiq moaned as their lips met, in disapproval, but there was no way he could shake himself free and he was just so tired, so exhausted, that it was not difficult for him to make him open up either. He let out more muffled, strangled sounds as the other slipped his tongue in and let it meet his, protesting as the taste of vodka permeated his mouth. It was very weird for him, but Sadiq could not pull away, not when he had him like that.  
He let out a sigh of relief as the other pulled out of him, now slipping in next to the Turk on the bed and finally untied his wrists, throwing an arm over his chest as the other relaxed finally.  
"I love you." Ivan whispered teasingly in his ears.  
"Pfft!" That was all the Turk gave in reply and turned on his other side.  
"Sadiq." He cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at him as he spoke and repeated himself. "I love you."  
"What would someone like /you/ know about love."


End file.
